


Tankards for Two

by thewightknight



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Flirting, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22121326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: Krem always flirted with barmaids. It was expected behavior for a mercenary, after all.  He was pretty good at it, he thought. At least, he’d never gotten slapped, or gotten a tankard dumped over his head, unlike some of his fellow Chargers. Winks and saucy remarks were returned in kind, and generous tipping always assured attentive service.It took him by surprise one night, when Bull pointed out that one of the barmaids at The Herald’s Rest was interested in more than flirting.
Relationships: Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 81





	Tankards for Two

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel to [A Birthday Present](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3370262), but you certainly don't have to have read that one to make sense of this.

Krem always flirted with barmaids. It was expected behavior for a mercenary, after all. He was pretty good at it, he thought. At least, he’d never gotten slapped, or gotten a tankard dumped over his head, unlike some of his fellow Chargers. Winks and saucy remarks were returned in kind, and generous tipping always assured attentive service.

It took him by surprise one night, when Bull pointed out that one of the barmaids at The Herald’s Rest was interested in more than flirting.

“So you ever gonna close the deal with her?” Bull asked, leering at him and giving him a slow wink with his one eye.

“What? Me?” Krem asked, looking around to make sure Bull wasn’t talking to someone else

“Yes, you, Krem de al Krem. You know, the one she always plumps her bosoms for before serving.”

Did she do that? Krem had never noticed.

“She’s not exactly my type, Boss.”

“What exactly is your type, then?” Bull asked. His tone suggested he already knew.

Krem scrambled for a response, but was saved by the boisterous entrance of the Inquisitor, Varric, and Dorian. Oh, no. He hoped he hadn’t reacted at their appearance. Bull could put together the tiniest clues and turn them into epics.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Maxwell said when they reached their table. “I need to steal Bull for a bit. Here. Let me make it up to you.” He beckoned to the barmaid, and laid a stack of coins in her hand. “Keep it coming for them, will you?” Maker, had the Inquisitor just winked at him too? Trevelyan and Bull made their way to the door, leaving him with Dorian and Varric.

“Much as I’d love to stay and drink, I’ve left some of my correspondence go too long. Bend an elbow for me tonight, will you?” And with that, Varric left too, which meant it was now just him and Dorian. Dorian, with his huge brown eyes and lush lips and enticingly bare shoulder. Dorian, who always smelled of exotic spices and whose hair begged to be mussed and tousled.

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of two tankards and a pitcher. Now that Bull had pointed it out, he noticed that the barmaid’s blouse barely covered her endowments. She saw where his gaze had gone and rounded her shoulders, deepening her already impressive cleavage and causing her blouse to slip a fraction lower.

“You let me know when you need a refill, love!” she purred before she moved on to the next table. She threw a look over her shoulder at him, coy and inviting, and he buried his face in his tankard to cover up his flush.

“Something going on there?” Dorian asked. He was a portrait of disinterest, holding his hand out and examining his fingernails.

“No, not at all.”

“Really? Haven’t taken her up for a tumble yet?”

“No.” And then, the ale having loosened his tongue, he blurted out, “She’s not really my type.”

“Oh?” Dorian asked as he buffed his fingernails against the front of his tunic. “What is your type, if I may ask?”

He looked up then and met Krem’s eyes with his own. Krem felt like he was falling into them, and realized too late that he’d been staring. Afraid he might have given himself away, he let his own eyes drop to his tankard.

“Not that,” he said before upending his drink. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should go see what the Inquisitor wanted. If it involves the Chargers, I’ll have to make sure they’re ready for action.”

“Well, if you must,” Dorian said. “But if they do not, in fact, need you, perhaps you’d care to rejoin me afterwards? For another drink, at least.”

 _At least?_ What did he mean by that? Not daring to hope, Krem looked up again and was caught anew by those eyes.

“Or if not tonight, then another, when your duties are seen to and you have a few hours to kill.”

“I’d like that,” Krem stammered.

“Good. It’s settled. Off with you then. I’ll keep your seat warm.”

Shivering at the way Dorian purred those words, Krem beat a hasty retreat. When he hit the first landing he looked down and found Dorian watching him. The mage raised his tankard in a toast and Krem nodded, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Maybe his situation wasn’t as hopeless as he’d thought. Maryden had struck up a lively tune and he began to hum along as he resumed his climb. Maybe tonight. Maybe some other evening. Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to say hi, [check out my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/profile) for where I’m currently hanging out on this here internet thing. If you liked this, please share! Kudos are love and comments are always appreciated.


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